MacLean's Passion: A Highland Pride Novel (13 page)

Colin knew when he was being baited and he kept his mouth shut. Fraser was intent on inducing Colin to fight, and he wasn’t giving the man the pleasure. Besides, it was best that Fraser thought him a lowly servant rather than the chief of clan MacLean who was wanted by the English.

Fraser disappeared into the bowels of the castle. Colin took a half step to the side to protect Maggie from her brother. It was ridiculous. Sinclair could do anything he liked to her, and there was nothing Colin could do about it.

“I’ll see the two of ye in my solar tomorrow morning.” Sinclair turned to leave, thought better of it, and turned back. “Margaret, come with me.”

With her eyes downcast and uncharacteristically meek, Maggie slid past Colin. It took everything in him to keep from grabbing her arm. Of course Sinclair wouldn’t leave his sister with the man who was continually caught kissing her, but damn it, Colin feared for her, and everything inside him wanted to protect her.

Before she disappeared down the steps, she looked over her shoulder at him with bleak eyes.

Maggie didn’t even try to talk to Evan when he led her to her bedchamber. She knew him well enough to know when to keep silent, and now was definitely one of those times. He was furious. More furious than she’d ever seen him. More furious than when she took his new, unbroken horse and tried to ride him. More furious than when she forgot to duck when sparring with Gilroy and was knocked out by his broadsword.

But she, too, was furious. Furious that she was nothing more than a bargaining chip, that she didn’t mean more to him than the cattle he traded. And so she had no interest in speaking to him at the moment.

He opened the door to her bedchamber and stood back to watch her enter, then stood in the doorway and said, “Ye will no’ leave this bedchamber until I come get ye in the morning. I will leave a guard at yer door. So help me God, if ye try to leave here, I will beat ye. Do ye understand me?”

She nodded, not about to tell him that she wanted a guard at her door to keep Fraser out. She didn’t even want to take the chance that he would come to her in the middle of the night. She was beyond frightened of that man.

She undressed, tossing her hated gown in the corner and sliding on an overly large, very worn shirt. She climbed between the sheets and stared up at the ceiling, her eyes dry but her body shaking. She would admit that she was naive. Culloden and the English prison had taught her that, but her encounter with Fraser had shed more light on just how naive she truly was.

Who was she to think she could stand up to evil such as that?

She shuddered at the cool tone of his voice when he’d told his man that he would simply beat her until she learned her place. As if it were of no consequence. As if she were a dog who needed training.

She rolled to her side and pressed her fist against her mouth, a feeling of black doom descending on her. Colin
had
to convince Evan that she couldn’t marry Fraser. If he didn’t…

Please, God. Please let Evan believe Colin. If ye answer this one prayer, I’ll never wear breeches again.

She fell asleep in the middle of her prayer, but her sleep was disrupted by images of her running, always running, and never getting anywhere. Someone was chasing her, getting ever closer. She knew she was going to be caught and there was nothing she could do about it.

She awoke when a maid walked in her room. “Ye’re being summoned to the lord’s solar,” she said.

Maggie rolled out of bed and put on her breeches and shirt, barely giving the gown a glance. She quickly washed in icy water. Her heart was heavy. Her feet were even heavier. She knew that her fate would be decided within the next hour, and she had no earthly idea how it would go. Evan could easily dissolve her betrothal and could just as easily force her to wed Fraser. Her only hope was that MacLean had been able to speak to Evan and convince him to break it off.

When she entered the solar, her gaze immediately went to Colin, searching for her answer. He shook his head slightly and her stomach dropped. What did that mean? Had he not been able to speak to Evan, or had he spoken to Evan and not been able to convince him to break the betrothal?

She looked at her brother, standing behind his desk. It appeared he’d gotten far less sleep than Maggie had. And of course Colin had gotten no sleep because he’d taken the night watch.

“Fraser left last night,” Evan said into the silence. “The betrothal is off, but no’ before I had to surrender a chunk of yer dowry.” He shot Maggie a lethal look. “Ye ruined a fantastic opportunity.”

Maggie’s relief was so enormous that she actually staggered forward a step. Her knees quivered and she feared she would fall, but she didn’t care. Fraser had left and she was free. She would make the rest up to Evan and hope that someday he would not be angry at her.

“If I may—” Colin took a step forward.

Evan’s glare switched to Colin. “No. Ye may no’.”

A muscle twitched in Colin’s jaw but he remained silent.

Evan pierced Maggie with his glare. “Are ye happy?”

“Yes.” She couldn’t lie. She was relieved and ecstatic.

Evan’s look turned thunderous. “Ye ruin everything, Margaret. I tried. I tried to give ye a good life. I tried to find ye a good husband, but ye thwart everything I do.”

She took the words for the blows they were meant to be and fervently wished a hole would open up and swallow her. She felt like the lowest sort of human being, because Evan was right. She was spoiled and hardly ever thought beyond herself, but in this he was wrong. The aborted betrothal with Fraser was entirely different, and she wished he would see that.

Evan crossed his arms and took in the two of them. “Ye give me no choice. MacLean, since ye canno’ seem to stop kissing my sister, and Maggie, since ye refuse to listen to anything I say and ye ruined the best prospect I had for ye, the two of ye will marry.”

Stunned silence followed that pronouncement. It wasn’t at all what she’d expected. She quickly glanced at MacLean to find that his face was an alarming shade of red. “The hell ye say,” he nearly shouted.

Evan placed his hands on his desk and leaned over it. “Ye ruined her for another man. Surely Fraser will spread the news that the betrothal was broken because ye two were discovered being intimate in public. One can only assume what ye do behind closed doors. It will make him look good and ruin Maggie’s reputation.” Evan straightened. “She’s yers now, MacLean. I wash my hands of the whole affair.”

MacLean planted his feet wide, looking mutinous. “And if I refuse?”

Maggie’s heart was beating so hard that it almost hurt. But Colin’s question made it skip a beat. Would he really refuse?

Evan’s jaw clenched. “Try it. And ye will see me in the lists. To the death, MacLean. That’s what it will be. I’m serious in this. Ye kissed her no fewer than three times and ye were found alone on the parapet. There will be speculation. And there’s no way for her to return from that.”

“She ran away to fight at Culloden and spent two weeks in an English prison dressed as a lad. If her reputation is ruined, it’s because of that, no’ because I kissed her. And because ye forced her betrothal to the devil himself. I heard with my own ears what he had planned for her, and ye should be ashamed of yerself, Sinclair, for bargaining yer sister to the devil for protection against the English. If anyone’s reputation should be ruined, it should be yers.”

Maggie glanced between the two, afraid to move, afraid to breathe. She’d never seen either of them this angry, and she wondered if Colin was defending her or defaming Evan.

“Ye dare to speak to me of reputations? Ye who have a solid reputation as a chief who abandoned his people? A chief who runs from all responsibility? At least I was thinking of my people and their safety.”

Maggie drew in a shocked breath and looked at Colin, waiting for his reply. He was red in the face, his shoulders tense, his hand hovering over his dagger. She prayed that this did not come to daggers pulled.

“Ye may have been thinking of yer people, but ye damned well were no’ thinking of yer sister.”

She admired Colin for standing up to Evan, for saying the things that even Maggie hesitated over. She believed he was defending her, and that pleased her.

“The priest is on his way,” Evan said. “Ye will wed as soon as he gets here.”

He turned away from them, effectively ending the conversation. Maggie looked up at Colin to find that he was glaring at her. He turned on his heel and walked out, slamming the door behind him.

For a moment Maggie’s life stretched before her, barren and lonely. No one wanted her. Not Evan. Thank God, not Fraser, and now not Colin. Colin who had no issue with kissing her at every opportunity but had suddenly decided she wasn’t good enough to be his wife.

It rained for two solid days, downpours so heavy that one couldn’t see one’s hand in front of one’s face. In those two days Maggie didn’t see Colin. Mortified and frightened of her future, she kept to her rooms, taking her food there. When she did venture down to the great hall, he was nowhere to be found.

This wasn’t how she wanted to spend her last days in the home where she’d grown up, but she also didn’t want to face her clansmen. Because even though Fraser was a bampot, her reputation would be affected by the fact that she had been betrothed to him and caught unsupervised, in a precarious situation, with another man. Maggie wasn’t one to hide, but she was hiding now, and that only added to her embarrassment. What had become of her? All because of these damn men.

The latch on her door rattled and she jumped, cursing herself for being so nervous that even a small sound affected her.

“Open the door, Maggie.”

She wanted to yell, “Go away,” but figured that wasn’t the best way to start their marriage, so she opened the door and stepped back to let Colin in.

She’d forgotten how wide he was. She’d just seen him a few days before, but she always seemed to forget the width of his shoulders. They stood in awkward silence for a long time.

“I thought we should talk before the…wedding.” He seemed to have a difficult time saying that, which only made Maggie feel worse.

“I’m sure ye think I’ve ruined yer life,” she said in defeat.

“I do no’ have much of a life to ruin. Do ye understand that, Maggie? I’ve naught to give ye.”

“My brother seems to think otherwise.”

“Yer brother is furious and no’ thinking properly.”

“So ye do no’ want me as a wife?”

“It does no’ matter what I want. I can’t have a wife. I have nothing. That cave we stayed in? That’s all I can offer ye right now. I don’t even have a home to take ye to.”

“That does no’ matter.”

“It
does
matter. It matters to me.” He ran a hand through his hair. “When a man weds a woman, he’s supposed to take care of her and be able to feed her and clothe her and put a roof over her head.”

Maggie could see that this really bothered Colin, but it didn’t matter to her. She’d gladly live with him in a cave. “I can feed myself and I already have clothes and a cave is just as good for a roof as anything else.”

“Don’ ye see, Maggie? It makes me look the fool.”

“No’ a fool. An honest, compassionate man but no’ a fool.”

He pressed his lips together, and they stared at each other for a long time in a silent battle of wills.

“When I told ye I wanted to come with ye, this was no’ what I had in mind,” she said. “I’d thought to go as a warrior, someone to watch yer back, a…companion.” It all seemed so silly now. “Of course I know that women are no’ warriors, and they certainly can no’ go off alone with a man without raising eyebrows. Unless they’re married, which we will be…” She was rambling, unable to stop herself, feeling more and more foolish while he just stood there staring at her and she had no idea what in the world he was thinking.

“Ye make a damn fine warrior, Maggie Sinclair. Ye’ve had my back so many times that even I canno’ deny what a good warrior ye are. Evan taught ye well.”

She snorted and he chuckled.

“I’m glad ye’re no’ marrying Fraser,” he said softly. “No matter what happens between us, I’m glad for that, at least.”

“But are ye glad that we’re being married?” She held her breath, wishing she hadn’t asked.

Colin stood there mute, and she looked away as the silence stretched to uncomfortable proportions. He finally said, “I’ll no’ start our marriage with a lie. A wife right now is no’ a good thing for me.”

“I see,” she said. Then she looked up at him. “Well, ye may no’ want a wife, but ye’re getting one anyway, and I’ll promise ye this, Colin MacLean, I’ll still have yer back. I can be a warrior and fight with ye if need be. If ye do no’ want a wife, I’ll give ye a warrior.”

The morning of the wedding arrived. She knew she had to do something—wash, get dressed, go downstairs to meet her groom who had no desire to marry her.

She was saved from the inability to move by Innis and a maid.

“Today is yer wedding day,” Innis said brightly, as if Maggie needed to be reminded.

Maggie gave her a baleful look. Why in the world was the woman looking so cheerful?

The smile slipped from Innis’s face. “It’s sorry I am, Maggie, about how things worked out.”

“Are ye, Innis?”

“I am. Ye are the first friend I had here. Who will go to Loch Rumsdale with me now?”

Maggie laughed, but to her horror, the laughter turned to tears and then sobs. Loch Rumsdale. Her favorite place on earth. Would she ever see it again? Would Colin allow her to return to her home and visit her family?

“Ah, lass, do no’ cry.” Innis hugged her tight and Maggie clung to her. It was so strange. She’d never cried so much in her life, and she’d never cried on another woman’s shoulder.

Innis led her to the bed and they sat side by side. “Since ye have no woman to talk to, I guess it’s up to me to tell ye the way of things now that ye’ll be married.”

Maggie held out her hand as if she could physically stop Innis’s words. “Oh, no. That’s quite all right. Colin and I, we’ll no’ have that kind of marriage.” He’d said he didn’t want a wife, and she’d promised to be the one to watch his back. That was all their marriage would be. She need not worry about anything else.

Innis smiled shyly and secretly and leaned toward Maggie to whisper, “It’s no’ that bad. In fact, it’s quite enjoyable.”

Maggie jumped up and was on the other side of the room in less than the five strides it usually took to get there. “Stop! Please. This is my brother ye’re talking about.” She shook her hands in front of her and hopped on her toes.

“I just do no’ want ye going into yer wedding night thinking it will be miserable. If Colin is as good as—”

“Innis!” Maggie nearly shrieked.

Innis got a twinkle in her eye, but her look was severe. “Do no’ go telling me that ye’ve already done the deed. And if ye have, it’d better have been with Colin.”

“No!” Maggie lowered her voice. “No. We have no’. And I have no’. But this conversation is completely unnecessary. I promise ye.” She had a rudimentary knowledge of what Innis was speaking of. She knew what parts went where, thanks to a kindly laundress who’d noticed when Maggie first started getting her flow. The woman had told her why it was necessary and what it was for. But she had no desire to hear any of Innis’s stories about the sexual act when it concerned her brother.

“Do ye have any questions?” Innis asked.

“Nae. None.”

“Are ye certain?”

“
Very
certain.”

Innis didn’t look convinced and Maggie prayed that she would say nothing more on this topic.

“I was thinking,” Maggie said, “that I might wear a gown today.”

Innis’s expression brightened and she clapped her hands. “Oh, Maggie. Truly?”

Maggie swallowed. She hadn’t said that just to get Innis off the topic of the marital bed, although that had been part of it. “Truly,” she said.

Innis jumped up and hugged Maggie tightly until she had to squirm out of her hold.

“I only have two,” she said. “Gowns, that is.”

Innis rushed over to the cupboard and threw open the doors. “No’ to worry. We’ll have ye looking beautiful.” She looked over her shoulder apologetically. “I did no’ mean…”

“I know what ye meant.”

Innis pulled out both of the gowns. Evan had them made for her about the same time he got it into his head that she should marry. Before Innis arrived, but not long before. One was the russet gown she’d worn the night she dined with Fraser, and she had no desire to wear it ever again. The other was spring green.

“The green,” they both said, and then laughed.

Innis opened the door and motioned for a maid to enter. The washing and the hair curling and the dressing began.

More than an hour later, Maggie had had enough and she wasn’t even dressed. Innis lowered the gown over Maggie’s head and she shimmied into it. It was much heavier than her breeches, and her movement was impeded by the skirts. She had nowhere to put her dagger, and of course she couldn’t strap a sword to her hips.

Self-consciously, she plucked at the spring-green skirts, pulling them away from her body only to have them fall back into place. She felt naked without her weapons. All of the primping and preparing had taken her mind off the reason she had to primp and prepare, but now it was before her, glaring at her.

She’d thought long and hard about her conversation with Colin, and she understood what he’d been saying. He was torn between doing what was right and…doing what was right. In his mind, the right thing was to marry her because he had compromised her beyond repair, while the right thing was also to walk away because he had nothing to offer her.

But he did have something to offer her. His companionship. The ability to accept her the way she was. That was a lot for her. The physical things didn’t matter to her, but Colin would never believe that.

She tried to take a deep breath but was girded so tightly that she almost popped her laces, so she had to take a little breath. Wings of apprehension had taken flight within her stomach and she pressed a hand there to try to still them.

“Have ye seen him?” she asked Innis after the maid had left.

Innis was folding her breeches and shirt. “Seen who?”

“Colin. Have ye seen him today?”

Innis paused, then continued folding with much more intensity. “I have no’. He’s kept to himself.” She smiled brightly and took Maggie by the shoulders to lead her to the mirror.

Maggie drew in a stunned breath, certain the person staring back at her was a stranger. She was so certain that she leaned forward and touched the glass.

It wasn’t a stranger. It was her. A her she’d never seen before.

“Oh my,” she whispered.

Innis stepped back, all smiles. “What do ye think?”

“I think I look like a…woman.” When did this happen? Since when did she have a curve that flared at the hips and got smaller at the waist? When did she get a bosom? She’d always hated her bosom because it got in the way when she fought, but she had to admit that the gown wouldn’t look quite so good without them.

The green made her dark hair appear darker. Innis had tamed her curls until they fell softly around her face. Her hair was too short to pull up into a bun, so Innis had tucked one side behind her ear and secured it with a gazania, a pale yellow flower with rose-colored streaks, which peeked out from above her ear.

“Of course ye look like a woman,” Innis said on a laugh. “Ye are a woman. There’s no crime in dressing like one now and again.”

“I suppose not,” Maggie said.

“Are ye ready?” Innis asked softly.

Maggie took a breath, not a big one because the gown wouldn’t allow it, but one for courage. Her life was about to change, and she had no idea what the change would be other than she was yet again being forced to take on a husband. Another husband who didn’t want her.

“I’m ready,” she said.